


The Chemistry Test

by loveoverpride



Category: Scandal (TV)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, HTGAWM characters involved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2019-10-13 03:44:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17480528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveoverpride/pseuds/loveoverpride
Summary: Yes, something new. But this been brewing since September 2017, and finally, it was time to share. It won't be a long story, but after the crossover episodes, and watching T on Today and other spots, it inspired me to write about Olitz as TV co-hosts partners. Hope you'll stick around for the next part. xo





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

Fitz Grant had it made.

Seeing his face everywhere — commercials, on the sides of buses, magazines, and billboards — confirmed that life as he knew it, was good. As co-anchor to the illustrious Kimberly Mitchell, they were the fun-loving duo on KCSD, dominating the timeslots of 6 and 11PM. He could go anywhere and get what he wanted. The perks of being a photogenic news anchor. It was the closest thing to be spoiled as an early 40-something. On paper, he had so much going for him;  _News at 6 with Kim and Fitz_ , was the highlight of everyone's evening in the Los Angeles metropolitan area. He was the golden boy; resting until 2pm, getting to the station by 3, working until 11:30. His routine was like clockwork, easy and comfortable. Numerous appearances at galas, store openings, and fun events. The dating game was a little difficult because of his work schedule, but it was fun to meet new people whenever he could.

But over time, he had this sense of longing to do soemthing different. He was questioning his career's trajectory.

He called his agent, Abigail Whelan, and brainstormed about what he could do to make some changes. Of course, Abby gave him a lecture of how important it was to be on top, and how strange it would be to just up and leave. This was their normal - bouncing ideas, arguing, and then coming to a solution. After a rough patch at the beginning of their dynamic, Fitz and Abby had become very close friends. She knew what he would like and what appearances he would not prefer. They both called each other out, but knew it was for the best. He would do his job, she would do hers.

Yes, it did seem like he was out of his mind to leave. But the following questions ran through his mind constantly:  _When is the right time to move on? Move forward with your life? Even if the situation you're in is fun, successful, and most importantly, comfortable?_

Abby began to research for new opportunities in journalism across the country. Throughout the grapevine, she received word that a top-rated station in Washington, DC, had put out a call for new anchors. A rumor had been spreading - the producer had fired a previous team because they weren't bringing in acceptable ratings and they wanted to have a landmark show in the morning.

Three thousand miles away to start new? It was crazy, but it sparked something inside of him.

Fitz had only been to Washington twice in his life. A tour of the well-known museums when he was 10 years old and an Inauguration Ball party, thanks to a connection he had. But the secretive press release was too good to pass. After much thought and support from others closest to him, Fitz called off for two days and took a red-eye to visit the East Coast. When he arrived, he immediately noticed how this city was a different kind of busy. Intrigued by the wealth of knowledge and history, he knew it could be an area he could get accustomed to.

With Abby's blessing, Fitz applied for the position, sending off a current reel of his top moments at the station, that varied from serious topics to funny and light-hearted segments. Hoping that would help him forgo the initial round of interviews and allow him more time to get things situated. Soon after, a call from an assistant director in Washington confirmed his next interview. But he was needed on Monday. He received the call on Saturday afternoon.

Everything was going so fast; taking another red-eye, breaking the news to his boss and Kim, that he might be moving on.

After the first round of interviews, subsequently making the cut, Fitz was becoming more confident in his chances.

Along with Abby, Fitz drove around, seeing what Washington had to offer. The day after the interview, he had a meeting with a realtor who had much success with other news personalities in the area. Fitz was told the perfect condo or loft would be found, either in Northwest or by the baseball stadium. All before sundown. No need to look across the border to Arlington or on the other side to Chevy Chase or Bethesda, in Maryland.

Staying at the Mayflower Hotel was nice, but if he was going to get this job, he would need something more permanent immediately.

Fitz Grant was looking for the next level in his life.

* * *

"Hey Kyle," Fitz called his boss in Los Angeles, "I'm on my way to my second interview. Not sure how it will go, but I'll give you a ring once I find out. See ya."

The Uber stopped in front of the building. WWTK. Fitz slid his credit card through the reader, punching in the amount for his tip to the driver. "Thanks a lot."

Wearing his favorite navy blue suit, light blue dress shirt, and a dark tie, he was feeling good about himself. Taking a deep breath, Fitz entered the building, signing in, taking the elevator to the fifth floor. When the door opened, he was greeted by a familiar face.

"Fitz!"

"Hello, my good man! I didn't know you worked here."

Marcus Walker, a former co-worker from L.A., beaming while casually shruggling, "You know. Just another stop in the grand scheme of things. Welcome to DC. How was your flight?"

"It was alright, still getting used to the time change."

"Well, the person you need to see is in that office over there," Marcus pointed. "No matter what. Just keep your cool."

That confused Fitz. Eyebrows knitted, he asked, "What?"

Marcus laughed while walking away. "Trust me. Let's catch up when you're done. I have a meeting in five."

Waving goodbye, Fitz strolled into the particular suite, mentioning to the receptionist of his appointment, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

It was odd to be patient, not quite his strongest suit. Fitz sighed, smoothing out his tie down several times, distracting himself. There was no need to be anxious, but the whole situation could be a huge stepping stone in his career.

"Good morning, Mr. Grant."

He rose to shake hands with a beautiful dark-haired woman approaching him. She moved with authority and that was incredibly sexy.

"Good morning, Miss..."

"Keating. Annalise, to be exact. WWTK executive producer. Thank you for coming in. I know you and your team were told about our search of a dynamic, charming co-host for our new morning show. It's in the 9-10AM slot. Perfect for late rises and stay at home-parents. Walk with me."

Fitz smiled, as they made their way to her personal office."Yes, the opportunity sounds very appealing." Annalise invited him to sit down.

"Since you passed the first round of interviews with one of our directors, I would like to invite you to participate in a chemistry test. I'm sure you've gone through this before at your current station. You will be reading sample prompts and we want to see how you and the other person mesh. We want to see fireworks."

"You got it," he agreed, nodding. "Would I know of anyone?"

"Depends on who you know," Annalise replied, in a somewhat cold tone, but she had a smirk on her face. "We have several candidates, coming from all over the country. Just do what you have to do to get noticed. Can you come into the studio now?"

Enthusiastically, Fitz answered. "Yes, ma'am."

As he spoke with Annalise, he began to relax. He knew his natural, God-given genes would help his case. Tall, dark-haired, with a smile that no one could compete with. But his charisma, the way he was able to connect with his co-workers and guests — he thought that was the reason why he was successful. Of course, whenever he spoke, people listened. He was a leader in front of the camera and backstage.

The green room, was decked out with a fancy cappuccino machine, plush couches, and a full-body mirror that anyone could use before rushing off to the set.

Four individuals — one man and three ladies — were also waiting, going over lines. He noticed that he probably was the oldest of the group. It shouldn't have bothered him, but a little bit of doubt was creeping in. Had he phased out of being the ideal candidate?

Always the gentleman, he greeted the others. "Good morning, everyone."

"Fitz Grant?"

His eyes shifted to the voice. "Yes, that's me."

One of the ladies, a blonde with a short bob hairstyle, extended her hand. "Amanda Tanner. I've seen you on TV in Los Angeles. KCSD. You're great!"

He smiled, graciously replying, putting his hands in his pocket. "That's great you've been able to watch."

"What brings you to DC," the man questioned.

"A change."

After a few minutes of small talk, Fitz glanced over to the last individual in the room he had not talked to. A petite African-American woman, with shoulder-length hair, was sitting in the corner, in a black dress and red pumps, focused on the piece of paper she was reading. He didn't want to interrupt her, so he chose to sit in an available chair to prepare. She was probably the one to look out for.

Amanda mentioned to Michaela Pratt, who seemed to be a younger version of Annalise, "I heard they brought in Laurel Castillo all the way from Miami."

"There's no doubt. They'll hired her like  _that_ ," Jake Ballard commented, snapping his fingers. The athletic-looking transplant from Chicago, added, "DC needs more diversity. Not just the reporters. The anchors."

Cyrus Beene, the news director, stormed in, announcing, "Good morning. Please remember this is just a screen test. No need to do anything fancy. Act as natural as possible. Following me. I need Fitz Grant and Michaela Pratt."

The two rose, moving in Cyrus' wake.

"By the way they're treating us, you would think we were rookies," Michaela complained while finding her seat at the desk,

Fitz shrugged.

"Teleprompter is straight ahead. The cameras are labeled. Alright in 5, 4, 3…"

"Rain or shine, we are  _Morning Live_ , I'm Fitzgerald Grant."

Ten minutes later, he and Michaela were done.

Cyrus said, "Okay, Fitz, take a twenty, and we will call you back out."

As he strutted away, the woman he hadn't met, confidently entered the studio.

"What do you bring to the table," Amanda asked. The other woman replied, but he couldn't catch the answer.

Fitz stood in the very back to observe.

After the countdown was called, she began.

"It is July 10th, here in Washington. Rise and shine, this is  _Morning Live_ , I am..."

Two directors were yapping about some technical issues, so Fitz missed the woman's name. But he was completely mesmerized. He couldn't move.

An assistant stage manager tapped Fitz on the shoulder, waking him out of his trance.

"Mr. Grant, you're next."

Rubbing his hands, he returned to the set. His partner was  _her._

"Good morning."

"Hello. Olivia Pope." She lifted her hand to shake his.

"Olivia. Fitzgerald Grant. Pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," she nodded, before returning to read the paper on the desk.

"Alright, you two. Act natural," Cyrus barked.

They watched for the cues. Fitz started talking, then Olivia jumped in. It was a different script than before, but everything seemed to be effortless. They didn't have a pep talk, figuring out how to segue from point A to point B; they just knew. Wonderful eye contact. Genuine laughs. Olivia mentioned a quick antecdote during the segement about a local situation in the next county over, while Fitz interjected with something funny.

Nothing seemed forced and it was brilliant. Whenever they looked at each other, Fitz saw a brightness he hadn't seen in a co-anchor in a long time. It was like they had been friends forever. 

"And cut!"

Cyrus began to clap. "That's it!"

As the stage manager came around to get the lav microphones, Olivia turned to Fitz, with a friendly wink. "Good job."

"You too," he answered, pulling off his earpiece. "That was fun."

Before they could interact further, the stage manager interrupted, "Alright, Fitz. You can take a 20. We'll call you back in."

He stepped away, trying to watch her next test, with Jake. Still, Fitz was overwhelmed by how good she was, as well as drinking in her beauty.

"She's a powerhouse, isn't she?"

"What?"

Cyrus answered, "Liv Pope. Only the best anchor on the East Coast. Well, Southeast."

"I've never heard of her."

"That's unfortunate. Too bad you've been only focused on California talent."

Slightly embarrassed, Fitz grinned, and turned to walk back to the green room. He couldn't pinpoint why and how he was drawn to her, a stranger. To be honest, she was competition. They were auditioning for the same spot. Who could say what Annalise, Cyrus, and others were looking for.

In all, there were eleven people who were called in for the chemistry test. Some were gregarious. Others had a strong presence. Most could work the camera. While a few had some difficulty with transitions. But Olivia, she had something amazing. Her delivery, her sweet laugh, how she made her partner comfortable.

With all eyes were on her — her energy was undeniable and infectious — and Fitz wanted to know more. Whether or not he got the job. He had to get to know her.

* * *

After an early lunch, everyone was called into the large conference room. Fitz sat with Marcus. Still groggy from the time difference, he was hoping not to doze off.

Shortly after, walked in, was waiting at the head of the table.

"Thank you all for attending. Unfortunately, we will not be able to hire everyone. I only want the most competent, beautiful personalities on my show. I don't care who they are. Squeaky clean track record, veteran in the business. Doesn't matter to me what you look like, how long your resumé. I want success. I don't want bullshit. I don't care for drama, but if background noise helps will help you will perform better, I'll concoct a recipe that will work and bring viewers to us. We will make our decision by tomorrow morning."

And like that, with all eyes on her, Annalise Keating walked out of the room, leaving the whole group speechless.

* * *

Abby counseled Fitz to just relax, and let her do the heavy lifting. But inside the spacious hotel room, that was the last thing Fitz wanted to.

With the fast-paced tests and Annalise's strong words, he didn't seem as confident as when he walked in at 10 in the morning. Besides, he had other things to think about. Was he ready to leave everything behind and start all over? Would it make sense to leave his home, for a new adventure?

He wanted this job. For whatever reason, sitting next to Olivia Pope, revitalized him. Kim Mitchell was brilliant at what she did —  delivering the news in a wonderful way, but the connection they had, it took a while. With Olivia, it was instantaneous. It was scary how well they meshed. They were in sync. But maybe he was overthinking, being incredibly smitten by this woman. 

Just when his eyelids closed, Abby called. Scrambling, throwing all kinds of calm out out the window, Fitz answered the phone.

"Hey, what's up."

"Fitz."

"Yeah?"

"Stop playing calm. I know you've been sitting on pins and needles."

"Whatever," he said, running his hand through his brown hair that curled at the ends, ruining the gel that he used to style it perfectly.

"I heard back from Annalise, and I've got great news. You got it. Lead anchor for  _Morning Live_."

He fist pumped, then allowed his emotions to take over, letting out a hearty yell.

"Congrats, dear Fitz."

Fitz fell back onto the bed, relieved that he impressed everyone, including Annalise. This was the moment he needed to propel him to the next level.

"Aren't you going to ask?"

"What?"

Abby laughed, "You don't want to know who you're working with?"

"Okay," he smiled, not as concerned, but willing to humor Abby, as he poured his favorite Scotch into a glass. "Who has the pleasure of being my right hand man?"

"Woman. Olivia Pope."

All effortless confidence flew out the window. He sputtered, "What? Who did you say?"

"Olivia Pope. The one with the bright red heels. She was there with you. The fourth screen test."

Fitz didn't want to sound completely dumbfounded, so he admitted, "Oh, okay. Wanted to make sure I heard right. You know when I get excited, I block things out."

"Hmm. Is there a problem?"

"No. Not at all."

Abby chuckled, "Okay, I'm going to receive a draft of the contract. I'll wait until dinner to hand it to you."

"Okay. Bye."

This was what he wanted.

Now, the next step; making sure the chemistry he thought that existed between him and Olivia was real enough to present in front of thousands.


	2. Chapter 2

There was nothing that was going to keep Olivia Pope down.

A go-getter since the fourth grade, she had her eyes on becoming an anchor on primetime network television. Watching the news since she was a little girl, admiring the women on the screen, confidently sitting at the anchor desk, Olivia knew that was all she ever wanted.

Following the path set by her journalism heroes, and receiving the best training from her affluent parents and others, Olivia C. Pope was determined to find the best opportunity for herself.

As soon as she left Princeton with her Journalism degree, she returned home to Charleston, working her way up the ladder.

Three years as a field reporter and weekend morning anchor paid off tremendously when her bosses promoted her to the 5, 6, and 11PM time slots. With her grit, honesty, and beauty, she has become the city's favorite. The signature "Pope" walk on small and big screens when her name was announced in commercials was a fan favorite. It was great being one of the most popular figures in the Low country region. Didn't hurt that she was born and raised in Charleston. Everyone loved Olivia Pope. But as much as she appreciated the support and well wishes, she knew there was more this career could offer.

A thought crossed her mind as she watched several co-workers moved on to various cities. What is beyond South Carolina?

The alerts on her phone would pop up whenever a job opening was posted. Olivia kept her eye on Washington and New York. When she read Annalise Keating's name attached to the press release, Olivia recognized a shift in her conscience or, as she called it, her gut. The description sounded appealing and with the premier station for the Mid-Atlantic region.

The moment was hers and she was going to take it.

Without sharing with most of the people in her circle, Olivia planned her visit. Reel sent, tickets purchased, hotel room reserved. Olivia had made it to D.C. in record time. Outside of the required vacation time, she never called out of work, but this was different.

The process was fine — meeting with Annalise, introducing herself to the other talent, whom she did not immediately connect with. Even though she needed to find someone to have a marketable reliability to, so they could earn money and clout on the station. Pulling out all the stops and letting her innate charm shine, Olivia did her best. All in a black dress and fiery red heels.

Because of her spunky personality and no-nonsense attitude, Olivia's segments rose in popularity and hits on YouTube boomed. This ray of Southern sunshine could not be missed, Wearing the best outfits, inspiring others to copy her style,  _The Pope Approach_ , was a winner.

After submitting her application, it was a miracle that she was handpicked by Annalise Keating to get interviewed. The 90-minute flight was spent analyzing the station's demographics, figuring out if it would be a good match.

"Miss Pope, please come this way."

During her first session with Annalise, the tone was professional and genuine.

"You're at the top of your game, Olivia. Prime real estate. Three years as a field reporter and four years as a mainstay anchor? Why here? Why now?"

Taking a breath, Olivia was ready to explain herself. "The time I spent in Charleston has been a wonderful experience, I couldn't ask for more. It has prepared me to want more."

Annalise nodded, clasping her hands. "I see. Are you in it for the long haul? How about a team player? We will be hiring a whole new staff for this new project and everyone will be required to bring fresh ideas to the table and collaborate."

"Yes and yes."

With a smile, Annalise stood. "Thank you for meeting with me. Let me show you to the green room."

Observing the pool of talent, Olivia tried not to compare, but it was human nature to do so. Some were duds to be honest, not having any kind of spark. Others seemed to be shoo-ins. When she laid eyes on the tall one, she knew it would be a fight. He appeared to be the best candidate for the position, even though he looked older than everyone else. The camera didn't always forgive age. But he had this classic appearance that would draw audiences.

"I see you hail from the Palmetto State."

"Charleston."

Jake Ballard, leaned against the wall, grinning. "Love how you say it. It's unique."

Being as polite as she could be, Olivia offered a cordial smile and answered, "You might catch a little bit of my 'accent', but I do my best to not let it out too heavily." The vibe she got from Jake wasn't ideal, but whatever…

Everyone seemed to be trying to make good with the others, to impress Annalise and co. Olivia kept her poise, staying focused, reading a script. The goal was to show her work ethic and still display her personable side.

"Who am I being paired with for this round," she asked, as she adjusted her ear piece.

"Fitz Grant."

Olivia's eyes widened.

"Is everything alright?"

"Nothing," she corrected, adjusting the stunned look on her face, her papers on the desk. "Lost track of the rotation. Was expecting Ballard or Laurel Castillo."

A minute later, Fitz joined her.

"Hello, Olivia Pope."

"Olivia. Fitzgerald Grant."

The two shook hands, sharing a quick moment before getting to work.

Cyrus, the veteran leader, directed them. And just like that, they were on a roll. When she laughed, he laughed. He would start the read, and effortlessly, Olivia joined. It was a great departure from the bland pairings from before. The chemistry test went fairly well. During a thirty second reset, Olivia turned to the side screen. They looked good together. Fitz Grant? What a sexy man. From her time with working with other men at WASC, Olivia pinpointed great factors for his success. A leader with incredible charm. Did they really make eye contact and actually connect? That was so much different than reading with the Jake guy and Michaela.

Michaela, the enthusiastic and beautiful, young candidate, commented as Olivia walked off the set, "Did you notice the vibes? Y'all were in sync. I'm sure everyone saw."

Olivia wisely drank some water to clear her palette. "I work well with everyone."

"But you have to admit. Annalise picked the sexiest woman and man."

"I don't know about him, but I'm nothing to yawn over. See you later."

* * *

Olivia returned to her hotel, taking some time to review projects that were sent during the two days she had been up North.

The phone rang, interrupting her train of throught. Glancing at the caller ID, the number wasn't familiar to her, but it was local.

"Hello?"

"Olivia Pope?"

"Yes, this is she."

"This is Annalise Keating from WWTK. I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time."

"Not at all. How can I help you?"

"I wanted to inform you that we would like to offer you the position of co-host for  _Morning Live._ "

Olivia's stomach did a somersault while her heart skyrocketed. It hadn't even been two hours. Without getting too emotional, she replied, "Thank you!"

"The team and I were impressed with your interview and audition. I knew we had to have you with us. Cyrus couldn't stop singing your praises, and now I'm part of this exclusive chorus. Would you like to accept this position, effective next week?"

"Yes. I accept, thank you so much."

"Great. I will be in touch. Please email my HR manager, Connor, with any contacts, such as your agent."

Olivia agreed. "Do you have clearance to discuss who is the other host?"

"Certainly. We just confirmed with his agent. Fitzgerald Grant, from Los Angeles."

As long as she received her due, and was an equal, it didn't matter who was her partner.

To know that a respected member of the news community had seen the potential in her, and to give her this opportunity was more than she could wish for.

She was going to run this bitch.

* * *

She told her parents first, and they were elated. Then, Olivia had to break the news to her boss. He wasn't as happy, but he understood. He didn't want to stunt her growth as a media personality. Thankfully, her contract had some wiggle room, given that she was going to a market nine hours away.

It would be different; instead of only reporting the news of the metropolitan area, she would be allowed to talk about various subjects that catered towards lifestyle.

As the plane touched down into Charleston International, Olivia turned on her phone to find a congratulatory text from her partner, Quinn Perkins. They had been working together for the last 18 months, becoming a power duo. She was one of the few people Olivia confided in, when it came to her potential job switch.

Driving to Downtown, and seeing the familiar surroundings of Route 26, made her heart swell. So much had happened for her, once she returned home from college. It wouldn't be a "so long", just a "goodbye for now."

Olivia heard an email notification.

_From akeating/wwtk_

_To: ocpope /wasc; fitzgrant/kcsd_

_Hello, Olivia and Fitz,_

_Congratulations and welcome aboard to WWTK and Morning Live! Please reply to this email with your phone numbers - the ones that you will actually use so you can correspond with each other. We're looking for connection and chemistry. The audience can sniff frauds and so eliminate that._

_On the 1st, your new email addresses will be active, so be on the lookout for that information._

_Thanks,_

_AK_

Olivia's cheeks rose, after reading this first of many emails from her new boss.

Later on, she sent a text to her boyfriend of four years, Edison Davis, a prominent investor, asking to meet for dinner and drinks. He agreed; it had been a while since they went out together, because of their busy schedules, so it would be good to reconnect.

His reaction to the news was not what she was expecting.

"So?"

Olivia couldn't help but to enthusiastically answer, "She called and I said yes. I couldn't believe how highly she thought of me. This is more than I could imagine."

Edison hesitated, while slowly lowering his fork and knife.

"What, what's wrong? Is your steak dry?"

Shaking his head, he said, "I didn't think you were actually going to do it."

"Why wouldn't I?"

Olivia and Edison had an up-and-down kind of relationship. Both were career-driven, always at the top of their game. After meeting at a social gathering after Olivia's promotion at the station, they were inseparable. They were fond of each other, becoming the attractive "It" couple in Charleston, always attending corporate galas, and media events. On paper, they had it all - rich, beautiful, well-liked, and great role models in the community.

When it came to personal progress, they were negligent to admit that their were stagnant, just meandering through, and not bothering to address the issues.

"When you decided to switch jobs two years ago, I didn't bat an eye. How is this different, E?"

With an exasperated sigh, Edison declared, "I wasn't leaving the state and I was actually making a lateral move, not deciding to take a blind leap upward."

The stone cold glare Edison received from Olivia was downright scary. The walk back to the Battery was not pleasant, with dead silence. Olivia was crushed. Even her tough as nails parents were more accepting of her choice.

After leaving to change clothes, Olivia found Edison sprawled on the couch. She opted for the chair, opening her laptop, and began to type.

Edison asked, "What's that?"

Without looking, she answered, "I'm finishing my letter of resignation."

"Are you kidding?"

"Not at all."

Edison frowned; "I thought our conversation at dinner would make you think some more about it. It's that final? You are going to drop this position you've worked your ass off, to start fresh in a new city?"

"Yes."

"Hope it's worth it," he scoffed.

Olivia wanted to disappear to her room, but instead, she pulled her soft curls back into a ponytail, beyond furious, ready to fire back with her words. "So you're doubting my decision making? If you can't support me, then we should not be together."

"Liv."

"Don't  _Liv_  me. Your condescening tone is out of line and I won't tolerate this."

Edison stood from the couch, opening his arms. "You can't just end this because we disagree. Let's talk."

"No. You're the one who is not board," Olivia pointed at him. "We're not married, so honestly, you should be thankful I gave you the courtesy to inform you. I wasn't the first person you told about your career moves. Now, please, I would like you to leave."

"Let's talk some more. How about you draw a bath and we can talk about this over wine?"

Olivia clearly announced, "Get out."

"Oh, come on, Olivia, stop it."

"You knew I wanted to go to a bigger market. I'm sure if anything changes, they would let me come back."

"Don't be so sure."

Olivia marched to the door, opening it wide, and waited for her guest to exit.

Edison didn't try to apologize, only sulked away.

It took a few minutes to calm down from the embarrassment she just experienced. After she sent her well-crafted and respectful letter, Olivia wandered to sift through her belongings, figuring out what to take with her, and which items to donate.

Then, another phone call.

"Now what," she muttered, snatching her phone off of the bed. The area code read "213".

"Hello?"

"Hi, Olivia?"

"Yes?" Her voice was still snippy.

"This is Fitz. Fitz Grant."

"Oh. Hello, Fitz. Forgive me for my tone."

"It's okay. It's late, hope I'm not interrupting anything. I received your email. Congratulations."

"Thank you, same to you."

"Do you want to meet up tonight or tomorrow morning, in hopes we can get to know each other before Monday's meeting?"

Olivia reached for her planner, scanning her notes. "Umm, I'm actually in Charleston, getting things in order, so that won't be possible. But I'll be back Sunday afternoon. How about 6 for dinner?"

"I think that could work," Fitz said. "I'll figure out a central location and I'll email you the details."

"Great. Or text. Texting might be easier, since I'll be packing."

"Hey, are you okay?"

Olivia rolled her eyes. "I'm fine," she sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Just a lot going on. Forgot that not everyone would be happy for me, but thanks for asking."

"I know what you mean. Change is a pain in the ass."

Letting out a small laugh, Olivia added, "Yes, it is."

"Okay, I will let you go. Have a good night and I'll talk to you soon."

"You too, Fitz."

She disconnected the call, closing her eyes. What an awful evening. Taking some time for a good cry in the shower, then to rest, Olivia wondered why her good news wasn't received well. Why was it harder for her to follow her dreams, without being criticized?

It wasn't going to matter anyway, because she believed that this decision was the right one. Washington was now on the horizon.


	3. Chapter 3

Sunday arrived.

Olivia was far from ready to interrupt her move — all by herself — with this first meeting. With a car loaded with two large suitcases, five pairs of heels in a duffel bag, and a full tank of gas, she began her trek at 2am. Instead of taking the easy route of flying, she wanted to use the ten hours to clear her head. The drive included tears, long phone calls with her mom and best friend, and two stops to Cookout — a place she would miss a lot once she got off I-95.

Even as a modern day woman, Olivia was unsure why the person she had spent years being with and supporting, had not been encouraging of her personal goals and career path. The daunting conversation with Edison truly rocked her to the core. Honestly, it crushed her. Her career ultimately came first and she turned a blind eye to his misogyny, even while it was subtle.

Now, on their indefinite break, she was free to do whatever she wanted. For herself.

The clock read  _3:04_. Seeing the white sign with red stars, Olivia arrived to the District of Columbia, her new home. Grateful she made it to her destination because everything hurt and she was exhausted.

Her agent booked a hotel room a few blocks from the news station, so the commute would only be a few blocks away. All the driving would help her avoid any more time in the car than she needed. She would have to start looking for apartments or condos soon enough.

After getting settled in the hotel and taking a short nap, lounging in a tank and sweatpants, Olivia decided to finally text her new co-worker.

 _Hi, Fitz, it's Olivia_.

A minute later, she received a message.

_Hi! Did you make it in okay?_

_Yes, got in two hours ago, thanks for asking. Are you still on for dinner?_

_Absolutely._

_Great. Where should we meet?_

The fury of characters typing stopped. Olivia found it odd, but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he had to take a call, or better yet, was actively finding a good place to eat at. To be honest, she was starving, wanting anything that didn't come in a greasy paper bag.

Her phone abruptly lit up and his name was showcased.

"Hello?"

"Hi. I was getting tired of texting."

"Oh, okay. Not a problem," she said. "Where should we meet up for dinner?"

"How about the Capital Grille? I heard it was nice and it's right by the Friendship Heights Metro."

Olivia searched for the restaurant on her iPad. It had good reviews, and not far from where she was staying.

"Meet in an hour?"

Fitz replied, "Sounds great."

"Okay, so it's a date."

"A what?"

Olivia paused, figuring out what she said. Was she confusing him? Did she use the wrong lingo? Was she implying this was more than a work outing?

She rushed with her goodbye. "I'll see you then."

* * *

Fitz stood inside the restaurant lobby, tapping his foot, looking for her, waiting for her arrival. He remembered what she looked like — petite, stunning, and poised. After that memorable day, he couldn't stop thinking of her. Even before he found out who Annalise was going to pick, he knew Olivia Pope was a force and he needed to get to know her. The evenng would be a perfect opportunity to talk to her, without an audience. If all went well, this would be the start of many nights talking and working together.

He went to check his appearance in the bathroom — a sleek black t-shirt, jeans, and casual Chelsea boots — before returning to his seat. Nerves didn't come to him easily when he was out and about in Los Angeles. But maybe it was confirmation that he needed a change in location.

"Hello."

Her voice nearly startled him back to reality. Standing tall, he turned to greet Olivia, who looked amazing. Oversized Gucci sunglasses, a lightweight blue top, white shorts, and sandals. For someone who said she was exhausted, she appeared to be a vision. He was overwhelmed by her beauty.

"Good evening."

They shook hands.

"Hi."

"How's it going?"

"I'm fine."

"When did you get in?"

"Yesterday," Fitz replied. "All of this moving around had me beat, so I slept all day."

"Lucky. As soon as we're done, that's what I'll be doing. Sleepin'."

Fitz smiled at Olivia, "Nice."

There was a strange nervous energy between them, and he didn't fully understand why. They were professionals; work dinners and happy hours were a thing. His co-host for years was a beautiful woman, and he never felt a need to overdo it to impress someone. But this? This was different.

A few seconds had passed; they were still holding hands.

"I clearly have no manners."

Olivia laughed as she lifted her shades. "It's alright. I didn't let go so... it's been a long day. I must need face-to-face interaction with people!"

"Sir, the table is ready. Follow me, please."

It felt like the timing was perfect for them, both were relieved to move. Fitz waited for the host and Olivia to walk in front of him. Being professional, my ass, he thought. The way her hips swayed, and how she commanded the floor, was driving him crazy.

When they reached their table, on the side patio, he pulled himself together. He would not let physical attraction ruin his time here. It was business. But not as usual.

A server arrived soon after, offering them menus, and taking their drink orders.

"What would you like to start with?"

Their eyes met; Olivia's shifted down to the words in front of her. "Sparkling water and a glass of your best full-bodied red, please."

"A glass of Pinot, if you have it."

It wasn't what they were expecting; acting like teenagers, fumbling to discuss anything, being timid if they looked at each other. As people whose livelihood depend on jumpstarting conversations, being even-keeled, they were failing big time.

Olivia began to speak, after sipping on her water. "Here is the million dollar question, Fitz. What brings you to Washington? Why now? I know you come from an illustrious career in Los Angeles."

It was a good start. Shrugging, he answered, "You did your research. Well, I was ready to do something new. It's been a good run, but I want to start over. Professionally and personally. How about you, Olivia?"

She adjusted her sunglasses, looking beyond Fitz's shoulder. "I feel like I plateaued in Charleston. Yeah, I was popular and could have stayed. But I knew something bigger was out there. I want to be challenged."

"That makes sense. I'm glad you decided to take this step for yourself."

The sunrays touching their raised wine glasses, Fitz proposed a toast.

"To us. To this new show."

Olivia smirked, as she took a sip. "Thank you. So now that the sentimental shit is out of the way, let's talk about work."

Fitz's pupils grew, upper lip twitching in amusement. "Okay then. What do you think about the fierce Annalise Keating?"

"She is a goddess."

"She is the one person you want on your good side at all times."

"No, that's me," Olivia quipped, before delicately bringing a piece of warm bread to her lips.

After an hour of enjoying each other's company, learning about work ethics, similiarites and differences, over hearty entreés and more wine, they both received an email notification from the woman of the hour.

_Staff meeting at 10am sharp. -AK_

"Fuck," Olivia whispered, placing her napkin down. "I should have planned this better. I need more than eight hours of sleep. I'll need to get going soon."

Fitz gestured for the server. "That's true. But I think we will be okay for tomorrow. I'm sure there will be a lot of questions and team exercises with the staff. Seems like an eclectic bunch. They're all so young. Over here, the old dog will be learning new tricks."

It wasn't lost on Olivia to hear such foolishness. "Stop that. I thought you were the overly confident Fitzgerald Grant. I ain't working with insecure people."

"Is that so," he leaned back, giving her a snarky look. "I can't disappoint you."

"That's right. Don't."

The server graciously interrupted them. "One or two checks?"

The two weren't on the same page. Olivia declared "Separate," while Fitz asked for one.

"Oh, come on." She lifted her hands. This wasn't her forte, allowing others to pay for her.

Fitz shook his head, before slipping his credit card in the leather folder. "You got into town after me. So I'm your host for the evening."

Olivia rolled her brown eyes, which made Fitz's heart skip a beat. "Fine, but next time, It's on me."

"We will see about that."

It was clear to Olivia that she could could tell there was something about Fitz that she could work with. As a fellow newcomer, they would be able to connect during the upcoming long hours, days, and weeks. Then, as a cherry on top, he was gorgeous, and she knew he found her to be attractive. She noticed every gesture. He was a fucking wreck, but it was cute.

With doggie bags in hand, Fitz and Olivia said their goodbyes at the street corner.

"I'll see you in the morning," she pressed the crosswalk button. "You drink coffee?"

"I do."

"How do you take it?"

Fitz answered without hesitation, "Simple. Black and strong."

That phrase came out too quickly. He nervously laughed, rubbing his jaw, while Olivia nodded, flipping her ponytail behind her shoulder. Oh, the memories of this first dinner. As she waved to him, about to walk off, she left him with this:

"Alrighty. That's what you'll get tomorrow. Maybe a doubleshot, because once we're in that studio, I'm bringing it. Don't disappoint, Fitz."


	4. Chapter 4

Routine was her favorite word. All of Olivia's life was rooted in pattern appreciation and taking comfort in things being in order. Her parents instilled the consistency.

Her mornings were simple. With the exception of rushing to the station for a breaking story, Olivia would wake up every day, trained to get dressed in athleisure wear, go out for a run or do yoga exercises in the living room, showering, brewing a cup of coffee while checking emails, packing a lunch, and heading off to work. Now in Washington, Olivia didn't want that routine to change; it was only a different location. But as her eyes opened to find the sun rays pouring light into the temporary space — the spacious and beautiful hotel suite — she realized one thing: It would take more time than she thought to get accustomed to this new life.

Olivia had a power outfit that she wore on every first day; a grey jacket, white tank, and form fitting black slacks. Being a petite woman, she used her five-inch heels to lift her danceresque frame. Standing tall and walking with a vengeance was her speciality. Even though she rightfully earned the position of co-host, the powerful admonishment of her father replayed in her mind: You have to be twice as good as them to get half of what they have.

That could mean anyone — men, people who didn't look like her, or more established individuals. It didn't matter. She was not going to rest on her laurels. Especially not on the first day.

Face beat. Clothes pressed. Lunch packed. Materials in her purse. Olivia was ready for the day.

There was a coffee shop two doors down from the building. She ordered her favorite chai latte and a medium sized black coffee, as she promised. With the tray in her hand and purse straps swung over her shoulder, Olivia swiped her badge, allowing her inside the building.

Wondering if this first meeting would be different than her regular newscast briefings, she took a breath, ready to conquer everything. The first day for  _Morning Live_  would be one for the books.

She was directed into the brightly lit conference room. Ten people were already inside, chatting it up, drinking their morning fuel. Fitz was in the corner, going over something, looking quite handsome, dressed in a white shirt and grey slacks.

Olivia felt her cheeks slightly rise. Her co-host was the best looking person in the room and to be honest, that excited her.

In the process of walking up to Fitz, she watched Michaela Pratt, one of the segment producers, glide over to him. She was beautiful, and the peppy type, who probably modeled herself after Annalise. Olivia could spot how over the top she was; Michaela was acting all sorts of a hot mess around Fitz, wearing a hot pink blazer, black skirt, and heels that were a little higher than usual for a first day gathering.

"Good morning, Mr. Grant," she extended her hand, "My name is Michaela Pratt and I am very excited to be working with you."

With a chuckle, he said hi. "You can call me Fitz. I'm not a professor or anything. Glad to be working with you too."

Michaela beamed. "Okay, _Fitz_!"

The younger ones had a level of spunk and vigor that Olivia found somewhat endearing, but mainly obnoxious. Their enthusiasm had to be commended, ready to rub shoulders with the veterans.

Profusely denying any hints of jealousy and shifting her eyes away from the second hand embarrassment, Olivia pivoted towards an available seat. She placed the tray down, and grabbed the packet her boss created. Compact but full of information. Procedures, call sheets, how much vacation time she would receive per season. Since it was more of a variety show setting, it was quite different than the news outlet she was accustomed to.

"Excuse me, Miss."

She lifted her head; Fitz was standing next to her with a raised eyebrow and a mischievous grin.

"Yes?"

"You walk into the room and you decided to ignore me? I'm shocked."

Olivia noticed the intensity in Fitz's blue eyes; they were striking. No one could avoid his pointed look. If she was a weakling, she'd buckle and fall into them. But that wasn't her forte.

"You were busy," she curtly responded, pretending to be unbothered. Her acting skills needed some work.

"Oh. Okay," Fitz answered with a laugh, then leaned over to say, "Good morning, partner."

Olivia's lips cracked into a smile. "Good morning."

"Which one is mine?"

Fitz gestured to the tray. Olivia handed him the untouched paper cup. With a nod, he took a long sip.

"Mmm. That tastes good. Thank you. Next time it's on me. May I sit next to you?"

Olivia shrugged, moving her possessions over on the table. "Sure, if no one already claimed it."

Annalise entered, in a sleek black dress, looking like the fearless leader she was. "Good morning, everyone. Thank you for being here — on time — tardiness will not be accepted. Ever. Unless there is a family emergency or if 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue calls you to cover a story."

Some laughed, others stood still, a tad nervous by Annalise's firm statements.

"This week is for preparing for our pilot. Our first show is next Monday at 9am. The plan is to support each other, so we can have the best morning show in Washington. Every day, we will have a theme, and everyone will need to contribute. Full participation. Even if you're behind the scenes."

For twenty minutes, Annalise and Cyrus reviewed the introductory packet, answering questions, and led a team building exercise — focusing on cues and quickly adding onto a conversation.

It reminded Olivia of a high school theatre class she attended, in which she had to work on improvisation. Every three minutes, the rotation began, and she went to a new partner, making the best of what she received. While she focused on body language, she mentally noted on other aspects that were important to her — who took the lead most of the time, who was more creative, and if the partner talked over her.

When she and Fitz crossed paths, their drill was seamless.

"Ahh," Cyrus exclaimed, pointing at them. "This is why you got hired. Annalise, do you see the spark they have? I want to work with them all the time."

Annalise crossed her arms, smiling in approval. "I knew what was best."

On average, it took weeks and months to gel with a new co-worker; but in this rare case, the connection needed to happen sooner. Olivia and Fitz had four and a half days.

Thirty minutes later, Annalise brought everyone back to the table, closing the meeting.

"Thank you, everyone. I believe this was a great start. It's going to be a busy week, but it is possible. Your room assignments are in your folder. Now let's disperse and have fun," her voice boomed, prompting the team to applaud.

While the room thinned out, Annalise called for Olivia and Fitz. "Come with me to my office, please."

The two followed her lead, to her luxurious workspace. She offered them seats.

"I wanted to touch base with you before I head off. How did you think the morning went?"

"Pretty well," Olivia stated. "It was nice to meet everyone officially and start on a good note."

"Fitz?"

Olivia watched Fitz lean forward, calm and collected. With his signature smile, he agreed, "I loved it. I'm ready to get to work."

"Excellent," Annalise replied, "I'm happy you both got a sense of what we're trying to do here. It's different than what you're used to. Here's your assignment for this week — I would like you to create an opener and a mini script. Not quite banter, but material that will engage the audience. What you gave in the conference room was remarkable. But we need more. I want you two to get comfortable. Do whatever you need to do to make that happen. There are two rooms you can use to brainstorm, if that's your preference. I'll give you until Thursday. Any questions? Find Cyrus."

Fitz glanced at Olivia, who was jotting notes down. "Thank you."

"Anytime. I want to thank you for coming aboard. I know you two will make a great team. Okay, I'll leave you to it."

Olivia rose to her feet, thanked her boss, and left the room. Fitz bolted to follow her.

"Where are you going?"

Without looking back, she explained, "Finding the room Annalise suggested. We don't have that much time." Olivia peeked through each window, then snapped her fingers when she discovered a large room. "This will do."

They had to get to know each other, fast. More than the limited tidbits from the conversation the night before.

Fitz brought out his notebook, sharing ideas he wrote down during the meeting. The hour went by quickly, asking questions, working on taglines, segues, and tradeoffs.

"What if after each segment, I wink at you?"

Olivia side eyed Fitz, who was standing against the wall, "No, thank you. We have to broadcast chemistry, not flirting."

"Says who?"

"Says me," she continued, not relenting her stern pose.

"Thanks for the correction, Liv."

"Liv?"

Fitz rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh. Sorry."

Olivia paused to think it over, as she twisted her lips. "I kind of like it. Maybe it's the way you say my name."

Turning away, feeling heat rise on her cheeks, she almost wanted to take back everything she said; it was coming off as a flirtatious answer. "You have a great speaking voice. Calming presence. I'll allow it. Compromise?"

Fitz smiled, returning to his seat. His eyes lit up, a sign he received inspiration. He pointed his finger to Olivia, he stated, "Thanks for De- _LIV_ -ering that segment. How about that?"

That soft moment crashed and burned. Olivia tilted her head, let out a scoff, while giving Fitz another stank eye. The ultimate look of disgust while the light in Fitz's eyes faded.

"You didn't like that?"

Dragging out her response, Olivia said, "Absolutely not! So cheesy! Annalise isn't looking for that. Neither am I!"

"But didn't you almost laugh?"

"No. I was hoping for something more clever!"

Fitz shook his head, "It was all right there, Olivia! We need to have some Grant and Pope-isms..."

"Try again. Try harder. Be charming and funny."

"Wait, I'm funny!"

Olivia decided to play it up, rolling her eyes, sighing heavily. "Oh, I don't know. I didn't find that to be funny."

"Not even a little?"

"Try something else," she chuckled, watching Fitz's demeanor change. "You're too experienced to give me lame ass phrases."

It felt good to laugh during an obviously stressful time. They were having fun. That's what the station was looking for. Olivia and Fitz were on their way. 

* * *

Two days later, they were in the thick of it. Putting in longer hours to find that perfect recipe of energy, fun, charisma, and sex appeal. Annalise wanted a format that would bring in their desired watching crowds.

Fitz was well on his way to making his office more like home. He strolled in with two boxes of his favorite items. A photograph of his family. Pens. A glass that he could put candy in — he learned that trick from his mother.

Down the hall, Olivia was decorating her new space, with trinkets and essentials needed for the day-to-day, along with extra dresses and outfits, in the closet. Annalise was extra wise to give her this room instead of the others.

Speaking of Annalise, she needed her stars to have a photoshoot; no time like the present to start marketing.

For their first commercial, she wanted their looks to stand out.

Olivia chose a lemon yellow dress with caramel pumps, to elongate her frame, while Fitz picked a navy blue suit — his favorite — with a light blue-grey dress shirt.

As they crossed paths on set, they locked eyes. That was a mistake. The focus Olivia had soften, as she observed her co-host.

"You look nice."

Olivia curtly noted, "Thanks."

"Wow."

"What?"

Fitz crossed his arms, always ready to jump into the hard-to-get mode. "I thought I would receive a similar comment."

Rolling her eyes, Olivia stated, "The feeling is mutual. Lookin' sharp, Grant."

"Tell me something I don't know."

Olivia leaned back, feigning offense, "Excuse me?"

Before they had a chance to prolong their playful banter, Cyrus stormed into the room, hair already disheveled, headset dangling off of his neck.

"Alright, folks. Let's get the show on the road. I need ten perfect shots so I can send it to advertising. AK wants perfection."

Cyrus gave them different poses and blocking. Facing away from each other. Turning in. Each take brought them closer. Backs pressed. Eyes connecting, making glances that were comforting.

"Alright," Cyrus yelled, waving his arms. "Let's do it. In three, two..."

Fitz began reading the teleprompter, with his smooth baritone. "Looking for something new to watch? We're bringing you a fresh take on DC life."

"Before you head out for the day, learn more about your community, and have fun doing it," Olivia added.

"I'm Fitz Grant."

"And I'm Olivia Pope. Join us on Monday at 9am for  _Morning Live_."

A quick break for water and touchups, Cyrus offered some advice to the two.

"I have a few tapes from your previous shows. This is what drew us to you. Look at those reels; we want the best."

Back at it, and they were on a mission, looking like models.

Cyrus flailed about, wanting more from them.

"A little more smirk, Fitz. Move that stray curl back, you're not Elvis. Olivia! Drop your shoulders. You're not constipated, right? We need more you, less proper. We want our audience to fall in love with you. Immediately. Instantaneously. Immaculate."

Olivia slightly frowned, adjusting her shoulders, hoping the corrections were what Cyrus wanted. Shooting her eyes to her right, Fitz sat upright on the sofa, focusing on the teleprompter.

"He's so crabby," he whispered. "I should fuck it up so he'll get even more mad."

"Stop it."

Her smile made him stop in his tracks. He loved to see her smile.

"Ready?"

"Yup."

Five screen tests later, four o'clock arrived, the official ending time for the day. Cyrus got what he wanted and he dismissed her golden girl and guy.

Olivia rushed off to her office, changing into something more comfortable.

Timing was always impotant. When she got to the elevator, Fitz was walking towards her.

"Well, hello, there."

"Hi."

"What a day."

She hummed, "You betcha. How many times could we say 'Join us!' without strangling each other?"

Her ears perked when Fitz's laughter started. It was so infectious, she could listen to him all day. But she wouldn't let him know that. Not just yet.

The ride downstairs was quiet. As Olivia started her exit, she heard Fitz ask her a question.

"Heading out?"

"That's the plan."

Fitz opened the front door. "Wanna get a drink?"

"I wish, but I need to rest my feet and start looking at all the listings I received." Olivia twisted her lips, as she watched Fitz nod in understanding, but still looking a little disappointed. "Sorry, hopefully I'm not the only person who will turn you down on a consistent basis. Maybe next time?"

Fitz rocked on his heels, giving her a wink. "Okay. Not a problem. See you tomorrow?"

She grinned and confirmed. "Of course."

As they went their separate ways on Wisconsin Avenue, Olivia had a feeling like she knew.

Something was there.


	5. Chapter 5

Prepping for this new show was a bitch and the anticipation was building. In all his years of news journalism, Fitz had never felt this nervous. Telling the news was all he knew. There was no deviations. He gave it his all and the people loved him for it. Now this was a new concept, using different techniques to present information in a lifestyle, casual format, was going to be harder than he perceived. But he was hired for his reliability and personality; he was going to let those two strengths shine.

When he wasn't at the office, he was apartment hunting. The studio was a mile from the Maryland / DC line, so his options had expanded. The realtor did most of the searching, only giving Fitz the best listings. All he wanted — a large master bedroom and enough space to host gatherings, whenever he was going to make new friends. That was the hard part; He was such a social butterfly, eager to interact. With all the hours spent crafting this new show, he had no time to go out and meet people.

On his weekly phone call with his mother, Catherine, he opened up about his reservations. She was the sole reason why he contemplated not leaving Los Angeles. Her encouragement kept him going over the years.

"How's Washington treating you?"

"I like it, a whole lot."

"What about your co-host?"

"Olivia?"

"Is that her name?"

"Yes, ma'am. She's wonderful. She comes from Charleston, a firecracker. Energetic. Annalise thinks we work well together."

Catherine sighed, "Good old workmanship and chemistry."

"Yes."

"Don't fall for her."

"Mom!"

She laughed loudly in his ear. "I'm only kidding. Everyone can't resist my Fitz. But I know you have show crushes on everyone you work with."

It was a fact that Fitz was a flirter, and would be enamored by a strong, beautiful woman, especially in the office. Most of the time, it would backfire, either in a fail of a date, or misconstrued feelings and actions.

When he sucked his teeth, his mother added, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you on your first day. But I'm glad you and Olivia are working well. Where can I catch this program?"

"I don't know. I'll see if it will be online so you can watch it 9 o'clock your time."

"That's awesome, honey. So," Catherine started, "The likelihood of you visiting me will be slim?"

"Mom, I just left."

"I thought I'd ask…"

Fitz adored Catherine to the moon and back. Their relationship was one of love, respect, and sarcasm; their banter was sweet and funny. It made sense since it had been just the two of them for 30 plus years. When tragedy struck and his father passed away when he was 10 years old, Fitz and Catherine's bond grew stronger because that's all that was left. Being the only child, he was able to learn more and gain affection from her, being each other's rocks during tough times. He wanted to make her proud, in every phase of his life. Even with three thousand miles separating them.

"Possibly Thanksgiving? By then,I should know the status of this show. You know what, it doesn't matter, I'll fly to you."

"You're doing what you love, and that's all I care about."

"Thanks, Mom."

"May I ask one more question?"

Fitz had crossed from his bed to the bathroom, starting to prep his toothbrush. "Sure," he sighed, knowing exactly where she was going.

"What if the show doesn't go well…"

"It will. I don't intend on moving back anytime soon. I quit my long term job for this. I'll find another job on this side of town."

"That's my boy. I love you, Fitzgerald Thomas."

His ears perked whenever she said those three words. It meant the world to him.

"Love you too, Mom."

* * *

Fitz was not a morning person. Never had been. As soon as he graduated from high school, he always opted for classes after 1pm. The bliss of being an established newscaster — having a say of when he could work.

Those days were over.

The obnoxious alarm started blaring at 5:30.

"Five more minutes," he mumbled into the pillow.

Finally, at 5:45, he arose. Only having to take off his grey boxer briefs, Fitz grudgingly showered, letting the hot spray revitalize his senses.

It was the day; the debut of  _Morning Live_. Staring at himself in the mirror, Fitz brushed down the wet curls that almost covered his eyes. He desperately wanted to style a certain way in gel. Annalise was insistent about him getting camera ready at the station. She wanted a certain look, he guessed.

By 7, he parked into his new space, strolling into the office in a t-shirt and jeans, ball cap covering his messy hair, backpack slung over his shoulder, garment bag, and his trusty USC alumni mug in his hand.

Once he got situated in his office, he found his way into the break room to get more coffee.

"Good morning."

The cheery greeting from Michaela sounded like a disaster in his ears.

"Mmhmm, mornin'."

His gruff response prompted her to ask, "Not an early riser?"

"Usually, no. But as with all people, I'll warm up."

As quickly as he could, he returned to the office, went to change, then got his hair styled. He realized AK and her team wanted to continue this handsome go-getter look for the Washingtonian viewers. Nothing like getting high ratings than seeing eye candy.

Tanya, the makeup artist, worked on his face, dabbing concealer and light foundation his face. She and Fitz chatted about life in L.A., families, and good scotch. He realized she could be a good person to talk to.

Just as he was getting finished, Olivia walked in, plopping into the chair next to him. Fitz's eyes flitted towards her sleek ensemble — Black top and red pencil skirt. Her hair slicked back into a bun. She looked amazing.

"Wow," he breathed. Did he say it too loud? Probably not because she didn't turn her head. Changing gears, he spoke first. "Good morning."

"Hi, Fitz, good morning."

"You don't have to get your hair done here?"

Olivia pressed her middle fingers on the hairs closest to her forehead, known as "baby hairs". "I didn't want to take a risk. You can never know who on staff. A lot of people don't know how to do my hair. But I'll talk to Annalise, if she actually gives a shit about it."

Her candor was a bright spot for Fitz. For two straight weeks, he was observing almost everything about her. What her interests were; what made her tick, and how would she respond when things didn't go her way. Olivia was definitely a woman who commanded the stage. All eyes on her. Whenever she spoke, he listened. He was smitten. Of course, he couldn't ignore her beauty. She was everything he loved about a woman. Olivia's features were stunning. Gorgeous brown eyes, pouty pink lips. Curvy in the right places. There was a regality to her and a boldness coming from this petite being — that captivated him so much. The determination, the passion.

Somehow, he had to get to know her better, outside the walls of WWTK.

"Touché," he agreed blissfully.

Cyrus marched in, clipboard in hand. "Alright, everyone! Places in five."

Fitz thanked Tanya for her help, standing up. Olivia grinned, walking in front of him.

Pope and Grant were on the move.

The set had been transformed. Stage one: a blue couch, with colorful accent pillows. The kitchen stage was brightly lit, with working appliances. One more spot with three chairs and a orange backdrop.

With the assistants giving the hosts their mic packs, Olivia signaled to the cameramen, then glanced over her script.

"Here we go…"

Fitz winked at Olivia, "Break a leg, Pope."

"You too, Grant."

"Together?" He blurted, not sure why he said that. He and Kim Mitchell had a series of hand motions and key words they'd use before each broadcast to pump themselves up and make sure they were on the same page.

Thankfully, Olivia quickly smiled and repeated. "Together."

"In 5, 4, 3…"

"Hello, DC, and you're watching  _Morning Live_. I'm Fitz Grant."

"And I'm Olivia Pope."

* * *

The episode had Fitz and Olivia bouncing around to different topics: trying out new recipes from a local Cajun restaurant, learning aout new exhibits at the Natioanal Zoo, and a segment on affordable buys. There were a few awkward pauses, but overall, the broadcast went well.

With the new theme song playing softly in the background, Fitz waved while standing at the counter with the chef. "Thank you for joining us! See you tomorrow."

Olivia took a bite of the extra spicy jambalaya, wiggled, also waving goodbye.

"And that's a wrap. Good job, everyone," Cyrus exclaimed. The whole room applauded.

Olivia shuffled off the kitchen set, untying her apron. "Thank Jesus... Great job."

"Thanks."

Their brains were connected and they high fived.

Annalise emerged from the background, giving them smiles. "Good work, you two. It's just what I imagined. We're going to meet in the conference room at 7. Enjoy the rest of your day.

Fitz stood next to Olivia, who had a big grin on her face.

"All thanks to you," he nudged her arm with his elbow.

"It takes two... Shit, I need to switch my shoes, be right back."

Olivia rushed out of view. Fitz couldn't keep his eyes away, watching her until she couldn't be seen anymore. until he heard his name being called.

_Smitten..._

* * *

Olivia and Fitz were definitely in a groove, entering each segment with pizazz, humor, and compassion.

Somehow they both were wearing blue on Friday's taping. Fitz was wearing a navy blue suit and a light blue shirt; Olivia wore a cobalt blue top with black wide leg pants. Her hair was softly curled, hitting her bare shoulders.

"Together?"

"Together."

They smiled as the countdown ended.

After the show, Fitz visited Olivia's office.

"This is nice."

Olivia extended her arm, like she was a hostess. "Thanks. Finally began to make it my own."

Along wth South Carolinian trinkets, there were lots of photos. One particular frame caught Fitz's eye. A beautiful shot of Olivia at her college graduation with her parents.

"Those are my cousins," she stated. "We're hot messes."

"Who's that?"

Olivia paused. Looking away for a few seconds, then returning to look at Fitz, she replied, "Oh…that's an old friend of mine."

Fitz immediately scanned the photo in his memory. They looked happy, but after seeing her wince, made him remember their first talk together. She was sad. Maybe he was involved with her sadness.

Connor Walsh, one of the segment producers, tapped on the door. The olive-skinned brunette informed there would be a celebratory happy hour at 4:30.

Olivia asked, "You going?"

"Maybe. You?"

"Sure, why not? I didn't make any plans."

Fitz changed his mind. "Okay, I'll go. Can't let my co-host attend solo."

She smirked. "Whatever you say. I can hold my own. But it would be nice to see you there."

The little jabs that seemed like teasing were more than that. They were flirting, casting lines to see who would catch the bait first.

* * *

Connor, Michaela, Jake, Marcus, Olivia, Fitz, and three more staff members, were hanging out in the middle of the bar. Everyone was in their casual wear. Olivia had a fancy black and gold top, while Fitz wore a lightweight white dress shirt and jeans.

"How about we all give one interesting fact about ourselves?"

Fitz ended up sharing, "I play the guitar."

"Nice!"

Olivia hesitated but then offered something, "Every winter, I participated in debutante balls."

"Really," Jake Ballard asked, "With the fancy dresses and gloves?"

"Mmhmm," Olivia replied. "My mama was all about it, and I looked the part, so there I was. I think it helped me feel comfortable on TV."

"You're like Southern royalty."

Fitz watched Olivia give a brutal side eye, highly unamused.

"No, not really."

Connor lifted his tall beer glass, "Let's make a toast to us. To  _Morning Live_!"

Everyone raised their glasses of shots, wine, or beer. It was becoming a good evening to get to know everyone better.

The conversation became more loose and candid.

"Is it hard to date people in DC?"

Marcus laughed, "Depends on what you're looking for. Politicians, forget about it. Best bet — brunches, club nights, maybe a gala or award ceremony."

Kyla, one of the writers, interjected, "Can't forget happy hours!"

Michaela decided to add to the conversation, "Raise your hand if you're single!"

Everyone except for Connor was part of the demographic. Fitz and Olivia glanced at each other, then off to somewhere else. Trying to stay cool, he smiled at Michaela, who later beamed. That probably wasn't the best move, but he wanted to make it less obvious of whom he was interested in.

A few drinks and appetizers later, the group began to dissipate. Michaela said she had to meet friends downtown, Connor was going home, and the others were slowly making their way outside.

"Alright," Marcus interjected, "I'll see you guys on Monday."

Fitz hugged him; "Take it easy."

Then, it was just him and Olivia. Hoping she'd stick around for a few minutes longer, he asked, "Have you found a place?"

"I'm looking at an apartment off of Connecticut."

"That's great."

"How about you?"

"I think I'm down to four spots. Three apartments and a townhouse in Bethesda. I'm tired of being in the hotel. It's been a month and I would like to sleep in a bed that's actually mine!"

Olivia giggled, "That's the truth! Say, are you still hungry? I'm still hungry."

"Oh?"

"Yup," she replied, scrunching her nose. "All that drinking got me in the mood for pizza."

Fitz shrugged his shoulders, "I could always try something new. Did you drive here?"

"I took an Uber."

Maybe he'd be able to take her back, so their night wouldn't have to end so soon.

They found a pizza shop a few blocks away. Megaslices, two dollars a piece. Fitz handed Olivia her slice, while he paid for their food and two sodas.

"This is so delicious." Olivia closed her eyes, enjoying the savory piece of baked dough, cheese, and sauce.

Fitz gulped; he imagined her closed eyes for the wrong reason.

"Shit."

"What?"

Feeling his cheeks heat, he answered in a hurry, "Nothing."

"I'm glad we didn't tank."

Fitz sipped on his drink, then shook his head comically. "We couldn't, not when the best EP in Washington hired the darling of the South and the California pretty boy."

Olivia laughed, touching his arm. But when their eyes met, she brought her hand back.

"Oh, sorry."

"It's okay. We're friends now. Right?"

"Yeah."

Fitz pointed at her, "Why did you look at me when Michaela asked who was single?"

"I don't know. I guess I was curious. But hey, you looked right back!"

"I did."

Boldness took over. "What's your stance on dating co-workers?"

Olivia answered mid-chew, "I don't."

Fitz's heart plummeted. "Oh."

"I've gone on a couple dates back home... I don't know. Anything is possible," she tried to soften the blow. "But it never worked out. Plus, I just got out of a long-term relationship. I don't know what to think."

"That makes complete sense, Olivia. Just wondering."

"How about you?"

"I think if ground rules are set, it can work."

Fifteen minutes passed, along with the awkwardness. Fitz asked, "Ready to go? I'll drive you."

"That's fine."

When they parked at the hotel, Olivia thanked him for driving. "Sorry to be such a Southern Belle, but would you walk me in?"

"Absolutely."

The two walked silently into the lobby, passed the front desk, to the elevator.

Olivia reached for her key, pressing the card on the screen, alllowing the door to open. Fitz followed her in.

During the ascent, she softly commented, "Tonight was fun, a whole lot of stress off our backs."

"Yeah," he replied, with a faint smile.

They stood side by side. The elevator was moving a little too slow for Fitz's liking.

"You're beautiful."

Olivia looked up to meet his face. "Fitz…"

"I mean it. I'm sorry if I'm fucking things up. But I had to let you know."

Fitz's eyesbrows knitted, hoping she wouldn't flat out reject him.

Olivia lowered her gaze. He noticed her eyelashes fluttering against her sweet skin.

"Thank you. I guess it's honesty hour. I find you to be very sexy yourself."

They both let out nervous laughs. The bell rang, alerting them of their desired floor.

Olivia led the way to her room. But she stopped, not quite at the door. She turned to Fitz, "I guess I'll see you on Monday, partner?"

"I better," he answered.

The joint yearning made the hallway smaller. Fitz could sense something so heavy between them. Was it the faded buzz from the evening? All the attention they were giving and receiving all week. He knew they had been flirting and doing more on and off set.

Very apphrenseive, Fitz took a half step closer to Olivia; he watched her eyeing his mouth. He licked his lips.

"Fuck."

Olivia was breathing hard; her chest rising up and down. She dropped her purse, a complete no-no, and lunged to him.

More than ready to receive her, Fitz used one hand to cup her face, while the other, wrapping around her waist.

They were hungry; all the unsettled glances and vague comments came to a head. Their lips crushing and pulling, sucking. Fitz opened his mouth slightly, and sure enough Olivia's tongue pushed forward. He moaned in satisfaction, as they continued to explore.

He also noticed their hips were grinding against each other, in a supposedly empty hallway.

Olivia's hands squeezed the space between in Fitz's shoulders, before she stepped back.

"What's wrong?"

Fumbling for her purse, collecting her thoughts, she apologized. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, this wasn't right."

"I don't get it."

"Thank you for walking me to my room. Good night, Fitz. I'll see you on Monday."

The total letdown made Fitz rush to make amends. "Olivia, if we crossed a line, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to make you uncomfortable."

"I know. I made the first move. I blame myself."

"Good night."

Before she crossed the threshold, Olivia rose to kiss him again. This time, it was fulfilling, comforting, and warm. Her fingers combing through his thick curls.

Fitz was about to take her into his arms, when she once again, pulled away. Touching her lips, pivoting away, she closed the door.

 _What a strange way to end the evening_ , he thought.

The first week of  _Morning Live_  ended in fireworks.


	6. Chapter 6

The force in which she tossed her purse, honestly shocked Olivia. It landed on the borrowed mattress, followed by throwing herself onto it. Using her hand to cover her eyes, Olivia felt embarrassed, frustrated, and never been more attracted to Fitz.

A whole month in her new city, and instead of concentrating on her plan to become the new First Lady of Washington media, she was already distracted, pining for the beautiful man who was sat eighteen inches away from her, more or less, every weekday morning. For the foreseeable future.

The temptation grew while watching his every action, hearing what he said. Looking at his handsome face, keeping track of his body language. Figuring out what he'd do next.

Everything about him was sexy.

But damn, she made the first move.

Technically, he did, but she kissed him first.

Olivia Pope was a modern day Southern woman; she knew her worth. There was no fear residing in her. She always made a demand for what and who she wanted. If that meant, making her intentions clear with a man, so be it.

Fuck gentility.

Although she had every right to do so, this was the last thing she wanted to do - fall for anyone who worked with her. Literally telling Fitz hours prior that she didn't date co-workers, in order to protect herself, from the quintessential performance / show crush.

Technically, a kiss didn't equate to a relationship. But two kisses though within a minute of each other? Did that mean she was thirsty? Her buzz had dissipated by the time she and Fitz made it up to her room, so the excuse of alcohol wouldn't count. But there was a haze that covered her eyes and mind, that caught her off guard.

The abrupt switch in her life made her crazy for attention and affection.

Fitz Grant had eyes for her.

She knew that.

She wanted him. Desperately.

But work had to come first.

For now.

* * *

When Olivia arrived on Monday, a bouquet of roses were on the side table in the office. Her cheeks rose, a tad nervous to admit how the visual pleased her, working double time to hide her glee. No one was around since she got into the building Picking up the card, she read:

_Congratulations, L, on your new show!_

_You continue to amaze me._

_Much success._

_Love,_

_E_

Her smile disappeared immediately, turning into a scowl. The nerve of Edison to do this. They hadn't talked since the day she left Charleston. He was a coward for not even trying to amend things or understand where she was coming from or what she wanted to do before she traveled North. Not even a text or phone call. It made sense for her to not reach out. She was heartbroken, but still on a mission to be the best she could be, proving her worth to everyone who doubted her.

If the flowers came from her father or another friend, it would have been a thoughtful gesture. But knowing they came from Edison, made her feel gross, with a sinking feeling in her gut. A quick way to fall back into her good graces. He was known to be that kind of guy, using all his tricks.

As a fast tear fell down her cheek, she heard someone fawn over the roses.

"Those look beautiful! Who are these from?"

Olivia wiped her cheek, turning herself around to find Laurel Castillo, one of the premiere anchors on the East Coast, standing against the doorframe. Instead of starting her first morning interaction with a smartass comment, she grinned.

"Good morning."

The dark brunette crossed to Olivia, cupping one of the roses in her hand to take a sniff of its fragrance. "Mystery admirer?"

"Someone I would like to forget." Olivia plainly spoke, throwing the crumpled note into the trashcan.

"Damn," Laurel emphasized, "Whoever sent you these must have really fucked up."

"Trust me, you don't want to know. So what's up?"

Laurel flipped her hair back, smiling, "Just got in and passed by your office. Wanted to say hi since we haven't really talked since we all got here. How are you liking everything?"

"It's pretty good. A little different from my former station."

"Charleston, right?"

"Yes. How about you?"

Laurel kept perusing the flowers, "I needed a change in environment. Want folks to see more than a Latinx news anchor. I'm good at what I do, without feeling like a token."

Olivia nodded, "That's true."

"Do you miss it? Being home?"

Leaning on on her desk, crossing her ankles, Olivia replied. "Absolutely."

She couldn't let the reminder of home get into her head, as she prepared for the show. A new week of episodes, a full lineup.

"Well, I need to get ready for work."

Laurel took the hint, casually walking to the door, "Of course. Have a great show."

Twenty minutes later, Olivia was in a light blue dress and her nude pumps, hair in a softly gathered bun. All she needed was a light layer of makeup and she'd be ready for the camera. Power walking to the makeup room, she spotted Fitz, talking to a few co-workers. Obviously, she looked away, thinking he wouldn't notice her. But, he did. Standing tall, with a warm smile, Fitz was on his way to her. Her skin pebbled all over, seeing him for the first time in three days. She didn't expect to feel like this.

"Good morning."

"Good morning," she replied.

Fitz, dressed in a grey suit, white dress shirt, with his lighter brown wingtips, smoothly asked, "How's it going?"

Olivia played it cool, drumming her fingers on her folder. "Not too shabby. Other than my ex having roses delivered to my office."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "A waste of time. I thought they were from someone else, but my hopes got crushed immediately!"

Fitz's apology was genuine. "I'm sorry, Olivia. I wish you received roses under better circumstances.."

"You get the notes from Annalise?"

It was easy to deflect, and move to something more productive, then possibly vent about her abysmal relationship, to her co-host.

"I did. What did you think?"

"It can work."

Fitz gave a nod as they walked into the makeup room.

"Busy weekend?"

Olivia looked into the mirror, staying still, so the artist could do her work. "Not really. Still apartment hunting. You?"

"I signed my lease. Less than ten minutes from the studio, so it will be a decent commute."

Annalise peeked inside.

"Good morning, my favorites. Ratings are looking good, you two. Keep it up."

What they had was working. They were veterans in the business, able to turn on the cheesy, the professional, the fun, and the spark. They might as well be actors. When they went live, their eyes shone, connecting whenever they had the chance. She laughed whenever he made a joke. He agreed. Finishing each other's sentences. Sometimes her hand would playfully touch his muscular arm. Or he'd find any chance to wink or compliment her. Just so they could connect.

During a commercial break, Cyrus shouted, "You're in sync! Don't fucking lose it. The tweets are coming in strong."

The hour was spent talking about a school bus drama, fun hashtags, decor and drinks for fall. As soon as the "on-air" light dimmed, Olivia left the set, without high fiving Fitz.

It was killing her to see him without expressing how she really felt. The topic hadn't been discussed, but she couldn't say anything, not there yet.

* * *

"What do you think about Fitz Grant?"

Olivia joined some of the ladies at an early lunch on a Wednesday. Laurel thought it was a great idea to connect, outside of the studio.

"He's nice."

Michaela and Amanda were still Fitz-struck, gasped, looking at each other, and giggled.

"He's incredibly smart, funny, and wow, he oozes sex appeal," Michaela admitted.

Amanda cupped her face with her hands, "Gosh, if I could have a night with him."

Olivia took a long sip, while Laurel said, "Wow, I don't think you should have said that."

"Why? It's not like it's going to happen. He doesn't look at me, the way he stares at other people at this table."

Michaela turned to Olivia. "By the way. You two are the best co-hosts ever."

"Stop."

"I mean it," she affirmed, "You have such great chemistry. It's amazing to watch. Doesn't hurt that you two are gorgeous."

"You know, his tongue tastes like love, desire, and whiskey."

Olivia latched to her straw, draining her glass, before realizing Laurel, Michaela, and Amanda were looking at her, bewildered, skeptical, and flat out confused.

"What," she said, looking just as surprised. "He drinks scotch."

"Wait," Laurel started, leaning forward, "How do you know that?"

"Do you see how close they sit next to each other," Amanda countered, "Every day for four weeks now. She must know what he does."

"He drinks scotch in the morning? Is that why he looks extra good?"

Olivia had to catch herself, while thinking about how tasty his kiss was, before fucking up with her secret. "Remember we all went out for happy hour? That's what he was drinking. Then we went out for pizza, he helped me get into the cab, he smelled like scotch."

Her story didn't sound convincing. While Laurel kept her eye on Olivia, Michaela and Amanda were watching her with intrigue. Feeling embarrassed, Olivia shook her head, and chuckled. "Forget everything I said. But thank you for your kind words."

* * *

Their chemistry was a little  _off._ Olivia was keeping her distance. During 8am meetings, she sat on the opposite side of the table, keeping everything cordial. She was hoping no one would truly notice. But of course, he did, and he didn't like it.

After their Friday show, with all the cordial high fives and laughs, they walked to their offices together, side by side. When the coast was clear, Fitz whispered, "Hey. Can we talk about what happened last week?"

"I'd rather not."

"Olivia."

She stopped walking, and on purpose, faced him, knowing that if she truly looked him in the eye, it'd be over. Not in a bad way, but her resolve to resist would be broken.

Fitz asked, "What's going on? I need to know because it's driving me crazy not being able to be myself with you. Did I do something wrong?"

"No."

"It's about last week, isn't it?"

Olivia silenced her phone, that was ringing. Naturally, she would excuse herself, but she decided to forgo that. "Yes," she softly replied.

"Please let me know if I'm going too far. I need to know."

"You haven't," she replied, leaning against the wall.

Fitz took one step, facing her. "Look," he sighed. "I am attracted to you. I want to get to know you better."

She admitted, "Same."

The smile on his face brightened her world. It was crooked, sincere, and precious.

"Well," he glanced to the floor. "Good to know."

"Can we talk about this somewhere else?"

Olivia didn't mind talking, but she didn't want anyone to listen to their private conversation.

Fitz invited her to his office. Once they were settled, he began, "I don't want you to feel like we can't be friends, or can't talk to each other. This fucking weirdness, it's going to affect how we work. Annalise would have our heads if we slipped up."

"I know."

Olivia briefly closed her eyes, thinking about the week. It had been awkward, dodging him, it felt miserable.

"I will admit, last week was a lot of fun."

"Yes, it was."

"I haven't stopped thinking about you," she sat down in the chair, opposite him.

He laughed, "Same here."

They smiled at each other, feeling so light, since they were finally being honest.

"I can't promise..."

Olivia shrugged, "Let's not define this...not yet."

"Do you have to go?"

"I have nothing on my schedule."

With his hands in his pockets, Fitz waited on her. Being thoughtful, understanding. That's what she was looking for. But again, work. The fine lines of work and personal dynamics. It was doable, but they still had to be careful.

"Olivia..."

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to lose it if I don't kiss you."

Her lips parted with desire. "Please."

Fitz leaned down to find her lips. In a matter of seconds, what was so neat and proper, turned into something hasty. Their kisses grew deeper. Her hands going through his hair, while he pulled her to standing, grabbing her ass, wanting to be as close to her as possible.

"I can't stop."

"God, you feel amazing."

"I want…"

Olivia nearly choked, "What? Here?"

Fitz replied, stroking his thumbs on her jaw. "I don't care. The blinds are closed. Just let me. Let's switch places."

Trusting him, Olivia sat on the desk, inching up her dress, pulling down her thong, exposing her long legs.

"Wow, are you sure?"

She agreed.

He massaged her leg, while she finally let him see her.  _All of her._

"Oh my god, so beautiful," he kissed her inner thigh.

As soon as his tongue touched her clit, Olivia could feel herself relax and tense at the same time. Everything that had bottled up, simply melted away. She needed this.

"Fitz..."

She kept her hand in his hair, just basking in his worship of her. He was fantastic, lapping her essence, touching her, getting her  _there_.

It didn't take long for her to come. Olivia tilted her head back, trying to swallow her own hearty moans as she shuddered against his mouth. When he finished, she wanted more.

"How was that?"

Olivia exhaled, "Wonderful. Now, sit in the chair."

Fitz did as he was told. She turned on her music app, hitting the start of a playlist.

"I need you to stay quiet."

He had a stunned look on his face, while he unbuckled his belt. "Okay..."

Kneeling in between his legs, she began to touch, slowly lick, and suck on him. But as she was starting, her phone rang.

"It's Annalise."

"Shit. Hello?"

"Hi Olivia, did you leave?"

"Not yet. Why?"

"Because we—"

"My mother is calling. I have to get this. I'll call you right back," she rushed, before returning to Fitz's swollen dick. It was warm, hot pink, and just everything she wanted. She wasn't about to curtail her hands-on investigation of what she had been thinking about for weeks.

Fitz chuckled, "Wow..."

"Sue me," she said, eyeing him. "I couldn't leave you hanging."

His grunts were getting louder as she gave more attention, finding out what made him swell. His precum dripping onto her hand.

Before she took him into her mouth again, Olivia tapped his knee. "Don't yell."

Fitz's eyes closed. His hands gripped the arms of his chair, as he finally released himself into her mouth.

When she was done, she ended with a soft "pop".

"Fuck."

Olivia squeezed his knee, very gratified by what happened. "I gotta go. Call AK and profusely apologize for the delay. Make sure you leave ten minutes  _after_  me. Bye."

Giving him a quick kiss, she left. What a difference from the week prior. The start of something worth exploring...

* * *

"I think if we can have a meeting with the realtor, everything will work out."

The next day, Olivia was running errands, working with her manager, who was still in Charleston. They had been organizing a strategy for how things could be finalized while she was still in Washington. It was still be a while until she'd be able to get home.

She was at the new apartment, getting her key.

"Jay, I gotta go. Finally about to step into my place. No more fucking hotels. Okay, bye! Alrighty, seventh floor."

Olivia took the elevator, rolling suitcase in tow, still wearing her oversized sunglasses. It was a lazy day, in her sweats, no one would notice her, even though her face was now being plastered on billboards and magazines. As she found her door — 752 - and began to turn the key, she heard the door open.

"Good afternoon."

She pivoted so quickly; that voice...

It was Fitz.

"You have got to be kidding me," she said. Of all the places in the area, they would be in the same complex.

"Well, hello to you too."

Olivia removed her glasses; "When the fuck did this happened?"

"Last week. I guess the place caught your eye, huh?"

She stated, "It has some character I like. I felt in my gut."

"Hmm, that's interesting," Fitz countered, with a twinkle in his eye.

"Why didn't I ask you…"

He immediately answered, "You were in a rush to leave set every day and apparently too busy to talk to me, so I couldn't share the good news." The smirk on his face was glorious, and it made Olivia feel a bit silly.

"Oh, okay."

"Well, welcome to the neighborhood."

"I can't believe this. Co-workers  _and_ neighbors."

Fitz lifted his arm to cup his neck, sheepishly. His bicep was delicious to look at. "Surprise?"

"Very funny."

Olivia tried to open the door, but was not having much luck.

"Why..."

Fitz interjected, "I am four days ahead of you, and I can tell you, the keys seem sticky. I was about to go out, but I don't want to leave you stranded. So if you'd like, I can invite you in for a little bit."

"For what?"

"I don't know. To be a good host. Make you dinner. Make you come."

Olivia's jaw dropped, after hearing the casual wordplay from Fitz. The confidence. It was a major turn on, but she couldn't let him get away with it.

"We need to be strictly professional."

"Of course," he said, lifting his hands.

Before he could say anything else, she raised her index finger, pointing at him like he was a disobedient child, and sharply demanded, "I mean it."

"Absolutely."

"Don't give me that smile."

In a soft tone, crossing his arms, Fitz replied, "What else is on the 'do not' list, Miss Olivia Pope? Ignore you every time the camera is not on us? Please inform me so I won't embarrass you."

"You're too much. But I like that."

"I'm just enough."

Olivia couldn't resist sucking her teeth as she marched into Fitz's apartment, but quickly changing her tune as she gave him a "hello" kiss. His laugh filled the space, closing the door.

* * *

_Hope you liked. xo_

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, something new. But this been brewing since September 2017, and finally, it was time to share. It won't be a long story, but after the crossover episodes, and watching T on Today and other spots, it inspired me to write about Olitz as TV co-hosts partners. Hope you'll stick around for the next part. xo


End file.
